Italian Bombshells
by Voice Number Seven
Summary: McGee cleared his throat. “Boss, she isn’t in the system, in any system. Hell, there isn’t even a credit card with her name. According to the system, she doesn’t exist.” Gibbs cursed under his breath, but he didn’t sound surprised. Not in the least.
1. Newcomer

**Title:** Italian Bombshells

**Author:** Lalipop

**Rating: **T

**Genre:** Drama/Friendship

**Fandom:** NCIS

**Disclaimer:** NCIS does not belong to me, but Lia does.

**Summary:** McGee cleared his throat. "Boss, she isn't in the system, in _any_ system. Hell, there isn't even a credit card with her name. According to the system, she doesn't exist." Gibbs cursed under his breath, but he didn't sound surprised. Not in the least.

**Author's Notes:** This is the revised version of "Assassins Don't Have Friends." The title might change soon. I'm also sorry for anyone that does speak Italian, because I used a translator.

**Chapter the First**

**Newcomer**

---------------------------------------------------------------------- I ----------------------------------------------------------------------

She had never been a bodyguard before, that was true. She was trained to kill, quickly, mercilessly, and efficiently. She was not supposed to be in a single place for very long, for such risked leaving evidence such as hair or fingerprints. She carried more weapons than most would be able to identify, and could pick these out on anyone else. She was part of a non-governmental organization that few people truly believed in, being mostly regarded as folklore. She knew nothing of computers, but she was a good fighter. She knew nothing of the names or origins of the skills she possessed, but she was well-versed in their usage. Strategy was a strong point, and she knew how to torture as well as kill. She could clean an entire house of evidence and plant this, both. She was deadly, trained to be, and had never protected a single person, other than herself, in her life.

Of course, for this person, she was willing to make an exception of every rule she had learned. She would not risk the girl's life.

Because of this, she took her time in investigating the threat and the girl's conditions on her way to the other's country. The girl lived alone, what a poor choice. She worked for the Naval Criminal Investigates Services in the capital of the United States, Washington, DC, as a laboratory technician of some kind. The files of her teammates, confidential but decrypted for the assassin, also lay on the small table before her. She would need to speak with the team leader and the director of the sector that the girl was part of.

The threat was far too well-hidden for anyone to have noticed except for someone who was keeping an extremely careful eye on the assassin's friend.

_Don't be silly. Assassins don't have friends. We keep our cool. No such things as emotional bonds exist for us. That's what keeps us alive. Don't ever forget that._

She hadn't, of course. The lesson had been drilled into her mind since birth. She had colleagues, but they weren't officially "friends." The only emotional bond was for one's person, and contact was not allowed. The organization couldn't control emotional bonds, of course, so naturally one grew closer to one's colleagues. Sexual relationships happened infrequently, but when they did, romance was usually involved. Romance with an outsider was strictly forbidden. She knew that. She had never broken any rules. She didn't plan to.

She didn't seek a relationship of any kind that she hadn't established already. Her team was well as it was, and her friend outside was usually of no concern. Because she was a sector leader, shed' had no one to ask for permission to look into this threat.

Which she had to focus on once more.

She changed manila folders, crossing her legs and studying the minor disturbances. The girl had thought nothing of them. How her technical analyst had found the information was unknown to her, but she appreciated the man for that exact reason. He was capable of much she was not, and vice versa. The girl had been followed, always carefully enough she hadn't noticed anything. Yet, cameras in her proximity had caught the man; he was slim and undefined, rather short, honestly. He was always wearing something to hide his face, and his costume changed. Every time he was spotted, his guise had changed. Fortunately, her technical analyst had circled his silhouette in every picture.

There had also been disturbances in the girl's electronic pathways. Someone had hacked into her credit information, her desktop even. How the stalker had done so, why, and why her technical analyst had been unable to trace the hacks disturbed her. A single letter had been found in the girl's spam email folder, one the analyst had taken, deleted, and printed out for analysis by the rest of the team and their leader. The message had been equally disturbing, although it hadn't necessarily suggested threat to the girl's physical health.

As of yet, there had been no signal the stalker would become dangerous. Some stalkers didn't. But she was too careful to risk her friend's well-being in such a manner. This stalker had showed a disquieting nature already, and with ill minds, things rarely got better. With minds of this ailment, things only got worse and worse meant violent. This assassin was one that would not condone violence against the girl she had spent the better part of ten years befriending and caring for. No. Failure to protect was no acceptable.

---------------------------------------------------------------------- II ----------------------------------------------------------------------

Sneaking into the building was simple, much to her disappointment. The Americans had a horrible sense for security, even of a facility such as this, which hosted evidence and workers of the highest caliber. It was truly saddening how low this department's skill level was. Perhaps hers was simply too high? He lips twitched into a low frown for a brief second, before indifference once more replaced this.

_Never show any emotion. Emotion can be used against you. In fact, don't have emotion. Block it out. Emotion is just as dangerous. It can be exploited if recognized. If you have emotion, _someone_ will recognize it, and they will use it against you. Mark my words._

The elevator doors opened to reveal a large room with stairs to one side and several clustered cubicles. The cubicles themselves were spacey, hosting three to five desks each. Which did she search for?

Her photographic memory scanned back through the pictures and names in the agents' files. Ziva David, former liaison offers from the Mosad, was a pretty brunette with dark eyes and skin. Anthony DiNozzo was from rich family but disowned for his lifestyle, a light-haired brunette with clever eyes and a smirk. Timothy McGee was the technical analyst of the team as well as an author, with light brown hair and light blue eyes. Team Leader Leroy Gibbs was stoic, an ex-marine with white hair and limited knowledge of technology, much like her. They were easy enough to remember. Not on the team was the Director, a man whose first name she could not remember, strange as it was, but whose surname was Vance. He had milk-coffee skin and a mustache, with family of wife and children.

None of the others had family. Gibbs had lost his wife and child years ago. McGee had a sister, but she couldn't recall if she was still alive or what her name was. David had left her family behind when she had become a United States citizen. DiNozzo had been disowned, as she had previously noted. Family was not important in this case, however.

Eyes scanned each cubicles inhabitants, a pessimistic mind thinking they would not be present. They were, save for the white-haired Gibbs. As soon as her eyes recognized the faces from the files, she strode towards them, her gait obvious in the contained danger of her body. She had their attention the second she had made her entrance into their little cubicle, the men's mouths dropping open, the female's eyebrows differentiating greatly in height as one met her hairline.

"I seek Abigail Sciuto." The words came clear and crisp, hinting at no accent but that of finishing school, which was falsely assumed.

First of the three to recover some semblance of sense was the female, David was it not? She asked, her voice dry, "And you are?"

Again, the annoying twitch of her lips, signaling her displeasure and annoyance in the most miniscule frown. Indifference replaced it almost immediately, and she spoke just as clearly, "No one of consequence unless you find yourselves mixing into my business here. Now. I seek Abigail Sciuto. If you do not wish to inform me of her location, I shall find her myself."

She had turned her back, intending to return to the elevator and seek out the medical examiner – Dr. Mallord? – who she believed to reside in the basement during work hours. His file had stated he and her friend were relatively close, so perhaps he would be willing to surrender her laboratory's location. Before she was able to fulfill this train of thought, however, one of the males spoke up behind her, "That's not necessary, Miss…?"

She turned back, annoyance flickering in her eyes but otherwise keeping its absence from her expression. "You shall not learn my name unless I wish you to. Now. Show me to the laboratory of Abigail Sciuto or I will be required to take some sort of action. I do not wish to harm someone here because of a refusal to fill my simple request." She had learned how to speak, and how to negotiate. However, she was on even less sleep than she was accustomed to, and she was worried for her friend's condition. For all she might be aware of, one of these might be the persona in the pictures.

Her gaze flickered over their forms, studying carefully. None of their bodies were the correct shape. Both McGee and DiNozzo were too large, the woman too voluptuous. Whoever had done this lacked all sorts of definition. It was truly unfortunate. She had a strong urge to hurt one of these agents. What was also unfortunate was that Abigail would not wish her to. The girl was too kind.

"I'll show you were Abby's lab is," McGee stood, indicating she should follow him.

Her eyes watching him steadily for a long moment, and he gazed back for longer than most. When he did look away, a small smile graced her lips. She could remember Abigail speaking of him as an intimate partner, although the relationship had dissolved a long while ago. Nonetheless, she felt she would like the fellow, and followed him out of the cubicle. Behind her, she heard the following exchange.

"She has a cute ass," this, from DiNozzo, was as crude as the file had stated he was.

"Tony!" The ex-Mossad member spoke indignantly, the whack of a manila folder against a sleeved arm was too familiar to the assassin not to be recognized when it came seconds later. Her smile grew more sincere, more noticeable. For once, she didn't bother to wipe it away.

---------------------------------------------------------------------- III ----------------------------------------------------------------------

The louder the music, the better. The gothic brunette danced about in her lab, stringy black pigtails flailing wildly as she accomplished what could not, under any circumstances, be considered work. McGee recognized that the second he and the stranger entered the room, and he was forced to plug his ears or have an ever more severe headache later. Was Abby going deaf?

Much to his surprise, the stranger's limbs seemed to loosen, almost as if in relief, such a sudden release of tension it couldn't be anything else. Even more so, she seemed not to mind the volume. She approached the stereo from which the noise erupted, studied it for a moment, then reached out and delicately pressed a button. Silence ensued immediately. Abby ceased her dancing to look around in confusion, the straw of her Caf-Pow still between her dark red lips.

Recognition sprung into her expression as she sprung into the stranger's arms just seconds later, exclaiming, "LIA! You're back!"

Although the stranger hesitated at first, she took a moment to return the hug before stepping back and studying the girl before her. "You look well, Abigail. That is good."

"Why do you sound so surprised, Lia?" the Goth questioned, sipping her Caf-Pow.

Instead of answering, the stranger took the soda cup away and grimaced. "You have not yet broken this disgusting addiction of yours, Abigail? Truly, you must cease consuming this horrible mixture. As a scientist of your standing, you should know that."

McGee swore it was the first time he'd ever seen Abby look truly embarrassed.

"Now, as for my presence…" the stranger hesitated, glancing over her shoulder at McGee, distrust clear in her eyes. He knew without asking or anything having been said that she would not share with him in earshot. "Leave, Special Agent McGee. This is a private conversation. On your way out, you may also inform whoever might be listening outside that they should leave as well. I shall disarm the cameras momentarily. And yes, I know where every single one is. I can also see the voice feeds. Pardon my crude behavior if I break them rather than successfully disarm them."

"Lia!" Abby jumped in, looking horrified. "There's no need to break the equipment in this room. You have no idea how much it costs. Okay, maybe you do. But still. And we can trust McGee."

The stranger's glare could have shrunk Gibbs. "Non mi fido facilmente. Si deve sapere che."

"Lia, we can trust McGee," Abby insisted, almost sounding pleading. "If there's anyone on the team I'm okay with you not trusting, it's Tony, but you can trust McGee."

"Chiunque tu sia alla porta, entra, ora!" the stranger exclaimed suddenly, glaring at the door.

It took a few moments, but after a bit of murmuring, Ziva and Tony filed in, both looked aptly embarrassed. How they had understood the angry Italian was anyone's guess. Although McGee thought he could remember Ziva saying something about knowing basic Italian.

"I do not appreciate being spied on, no matter how hypocritical it might seem of me," the Italian stranger said, having returned to English – much to McGee and Tony's relief. "I realize you have stood there for the entirety of our conversation, and I also realize that my temper is a tad short due to my lack of sleep and anxiety for a friend, but this does not excuse your behavior. Is spying not illegal by the American government?"

"I'd prefer it if you didn't yell at my team, Miss…?" a voice interrupted, and Gibbs entered as well. McGee was tempted to groan. This was just getting better.

The stranger sighed. After a moment, however, she swung out an arm and swept a formal-looking bow by bending at the waist. Gibbs imitated the movement, although his head dipped lower. "Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs, I presume?"

"Correct," Gibbs grunted, straightening, his gaze untelling.

The stranger titled her head to the side. "You are a former Marine, correct?" He nodded, she followed suit. "I believe our peoples have worked together in the past, have they not?"

"They have," Gibbs acknowledged, looking a bit tense, "But it didn't end well."

If the barb was meant to faze the Italian stranger, it failed, utterly and completely. McGee doubted the woman had even understood that the remark was meant to be disarming.

"I think you should introduce yourself, Lia," Abby nudged the other woman's side, biting her lip.

The stranger nodded. "My name is Lia Marcella Ricci. I work as a special agent for a company, the name of which you do not have the clearance to know. I seek a business meeting with Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs and NCIS Director Leon Vance. It is a matter of life or death."

---------------------------------------------------------------------- IV ----------------------------------------------------------------------

"She's a total hottie," Tony grinned as he watched the Italian stranger moved up the stairs, following Gibbs. "And she's _Italian_. Man, French shouldn't be the language of love – Italian should be."

Abby rolled her eyes. "I've seen Lia turn down guys with better bodies and more money than you, Tony. She's downright cruel when it comes to guys."

"No one can turn down this," Tony gestured to himself, earning snorts from both Ziva and Abby.

"Don't get your hopes up, and don't say I didn't warn you," Abby sighed. She crossed her arms, gaze moving up the stairs and lingering on the door to Director Vance's office. She sighed again, chewing her bottom lip apprehensively.

"What is wrong, Abby?" Ziva inquired, tilting her head to the side.

Another sigh came from the gothic scientist. "I haven't seen Lia in years, but she's always watched over me. When she left, she said she would never return unless there was something huge going on. If she's here… trouble isn't far behind." A humorless chuckle escaped. "She always sees the trouble before anyone else does. Amazing instincts."

"You are very close," Ziva murmured.

"Yeah…we've been friends for so long… It's kinda scary," Abby smiled. She glanced at Tony, grin widening. "I'm amazed you shut up so quickly."

"I'm devising my hunt down the hot Italian chick plan," Tony muttered, kicking his feet up and entwining his fingers upon his stomach –

-- just as Gibbs returned, barking out, "McGee, send Lia Ricci through the system. I want all records – background, criminal, military, personal. I want every scrap of information you can get on the woman. Now." Tony quickly removed his feet from his desk before the white-haired ex-Marine yelled at him.

McGee cleared his throat, ears tainting a red color. "Boss, she isn't in the system, in _any_ system. There's absolutely nothing on her anywhere. No criminal record, no military record. Hell, there isn't even a credit card or newspaper with her name. She hasn't touched anything so we can't finger print her, and there's no match for her face. According to the system, she doesn't exist."

Gibbs cursed under his breath, but he didn't sound surprised. Not in the least.

"Is there a problem, Boss?" Tony asked curiously.

Gibbs sighed, running a hand over his hair, and looking up at the door to Director Vance's office. Just as the rest of the team looked up, the door opened, and the stranger came out, followed by Director Vance. The two made their way down the stairs and to the cubicle.

Just as Tony was about to repeat his question, Director Vance introduced, "You have a new member on your team. Meet temporary Special Agent Lia Ricci."

The team stared at the new team member as she bowed – the same bow she had used for Gibbs earlier. "It is a pleasure to join the team," the indifference on her face made the statement difficult to believe, at least for Tony. But then, he'd also always liked the chase. "However, I must stress that my priority is now, and will be for the remainder of my stay, Abigail."

"Of course, Miss Ricci," Director Vance agreed, sending a glare in Gibbs' direction. "But you must keep in mind that, for the sake of not drawing attention to yourself, you will be required to take part in the team's investigations."

The Italian nodded. "Yes, Director Vance, but I do have something I neglected to ask a moment ago." She tugged the man aside, murmuring to him.

Tony tried to hide his celebration.

**Translations**

"Non mi fido facilmente. Si deve sapere che." – _I do not trust easily. You should know that._

"Chiunque tu sia alla porta, entra, ora!" – _Whoever is at the door, enter, now!_

**READ AND REVIEW PLEASE**


	2. The More Things Seem To Change

**Title:** Italian Bombshells

**Author:** Lalipop

**Rating: **T

**Genre:** Drama/Friendship

**Fandom:** NCIS

**Disclaimer:** NCIS does not belong to me, but Lia does.

**Summary:** McGee cleared his throat. "Boss, she isn't in the system, in _any_ system. Hell, there isn't evena credit card with her name. According to the system, she doesn't exist." Gibbs cursed under his breath, but he didn't sound surprised. Not in the least.

**Author's Notes:** I'm not very happy with this chapter, but I've rewritten it a few times and I think this is the best version.

* * *

Elizabeth Perry: Glad you think so ^^

STLFAN: I can't answer those questions yet because it would be a plot spoiler – sorry hon.

**

* * *

Chapter the Second**

**The More Things Seem to Change

* * *

**

- I -

As Director Vance headed back to his office, the new member to their team requested the use of a cellular phone, stressing that she would be calling internationally. Tony handed over his before anyone else could even remove his or hers from a pocket or drawer. She thanked him, and moved to the window, where she spoke quietly and quickly, in Italian. Even for all his experience in overhearing phone calls, Tony found it impossible to listen in on this one.

"She's probably calling her team," Abby commented, lifting and dropping her shoulders with the suggestion.

Ziva, McGee, and Tony all stared at her, searching for an explanation.

The gothic scientist heaved her shoulders again, not sure how the business worked herself. "She has a team, kinda like we do here. Someone to process forensic evidence, a techie, a martial arts specialist, a strategist or whatever. Last I hear, she had four others on the team, but I don't know their names. She's probably calling them to update them on what's going on here."

"She is very responsible," Ziva commented thoughtfully, a mildly impressed expression showing the in the downward curve of her lips.

"I thank you for the compliment, but I was informing my team they need to have hotel rooms ready before they arrive and that I shan't be assisting them financially during their stay here," the woman responded, returning. Abby blinked, sure the woman was joking. She handed the phone back to Tony. "Thank you, Special Agent DiNozzo." Her nod was simple.

"Where are you staying?" He asked, stuffing the phone back in his pocket.

She lifted an eyebrow. "Where is the nearest high quality hotel?" she inquired in turn, her face still blank. He blinked. "You did not believe I intended to impose on anyone here, did you?"

The agent pulled at his collar, muttering, "'Course not,"

"Do you need a desk, or something?" McGee asked, hoping to save Tony's hide in the one moment he could. Tony, realizing this, mouthed a 'thank you' to him. The man owed him, big time.

"I would appreciate a chair of some sort, but no, a desk is not necessary," McGee smiled and offered his, which she took, thanking him, "Thank you, Agent McGee." She sat back, crossing her legs, and studied the team for a long moment. As her gaze flickered between them, their attention focused on her in return – all except for Gibbs, who was reading a file. "Abigail?"

Abby jumped a bit, but smiled at her. "Yeah?"

"Is it so rare for the team to work with an outsider, or do they simply not trust?"

"I think you're making them feel a bit uncomfortable, Lia," Abby admitted, grinning despite her friend's serious mien. "I mean, you look kinda like a ninja in the black get-up with the head-covering and all. Maybe you should take that off?"

"It is standard issue," the woman remarked in blatant confusion.

"All the same."

The woman reached behind her head, fiddled with the ties for a moment, then removed the black net-like thing that had previously covered her head. The removal of this revealed blue-black hair, silky, long, pulled into a bun. This bun she released as well, allowing waves of blue-black hair to fall to her hips, complimenting her features impeccably. Her dark eyes stood out against her rich skin, full lips and a cute nose making her face strangely vulnerable.

"Damn," Tony breathed, earning him a slap on the back of the head from Gibbs. He didn't even notice.

"Special Agent Ricci?" McGee caught her attention, hiding his wonderment with the woman's face far better than Tony was. She looked up, fluffing out her hair as her attention focused on him. "Perhaps you should dress more casually? You don't yet look like a member of the team, because of the all-black…"

"I am afraid I own little else, and nothing appropriate for field work, seeing I must participate," the woman informed them, shrugging, her face unimpressed.

"On your salary, you should be able to afford some new clothes though," Abby contradicted.

"I do not wish to have new clothes. I am very happy with the ones I possess now, thank you. After all, my dear, I would never wear those clothes after my business here has terminated." The woman's tone implied its own termination. Its note of finality was equal if not superior to that of Gibbs. The team had no choice but to be impressed. "Also, I would not know where to begin in my search for these clothes you seem intent on me gaining. What I consider casual and what you consider casual are undoubtedly two subjects on opposite ends of the spectrum, if even on the same spectrum. No, Abigail, my dear, I refuse to humiliate myself."

"Well, we can always go shopping together," Abby suggested, appearing almost desperate. "Ziva could come along to help out. You two are extremely alike. She can probably find you something you'd be cool with."

Ricci's eyes narrowed, her gaze flickering briefly to the ex-Mossad agent. "Alike, are we?"

The gothic scientist flushed immediately, staring at the floor much like a reprimanded child would. "Kinda," she admitted, softly, as if she were waiting for more berating.

"Humph," Ricci grunted, crossing her legs again and playing with a stray strand of hair. "I suppose it would not hurt. I could always pass on the clothes to Melody if I no longer need them." Her black-eyed gaze turned to the Israeli. "Would you indeed agree to accompany us?"

Ziva nodded simply.

"Why are you bringing your team over, Ricci?" Gibbs asked suddenly, snapping the woman's sharp gaze in his direction. Anyone else would have withered under the glare she sent the team leader, but Gibbs stood strong.

A smile quirked her full lips – one that sent Tony's hormones spinning. "The situation is more serious than I initially anticipated, Special Agent Gibbs. Although I have read each of your team's files, I have yet to have a testament concerning their ability. That is not to down put this ability, but rather to reassure myself that everything will be handled with the precision I demand. Abigail should understand, if you do not." She glanced at her watch. "I would suggest you speak up soon – any of you who is confused – for my team will be arriving in the next few hours, in which time I would also like to brief each of you on the situation at hand."

"Which would be?" Gibbs prodded impatiently.

The woman's dark eyes focused on Abby intently, and Tony distinctly wished she would look at him like that. The words out of her mouth were not words he wanted her to say to him, in any case, unless she planned on parading around him as a bodyguard. "There is grave danger for you, Abigail, a stalker at the very least."

- II -

Towards the beginning of the briefing, it sounded much like the previous two cases that put Abigail in danger: a stalker that had lost his sanity and chosen the Goth as his target. She was aware of that. The other agents and the doctor – she had inquired about Dr. Mallard and sent for him - were also aware of it. To assure Abigail was just as aware of the danger, she had insisted her friend be present while she briefed the others. Her team already knew all that was occurring regarding the case. They had been the ones to inform her of the recent developments.

The letter and hacking did not frighten her friend, but the dead cat left on her front stoop, as well as the clear evidence that _someone_ had broken into her home, did. She hated the clear sign of fear on her friend's face as she explained the details, that nothing was out of place except for a single shirt that was missing. While the agents questioned how she could be aware of this, she dodged each of their inquiries and focused instead on reminding them of the danger. A Marine was not involved, but one of their own was. Her team would handle the case regarding Abigail, while she worked with the team to avoid any suspicion.

Clearly, her presence alone was not nearly enough to protect her friend. Because of this, she insisted an eye be kept on the girl at all times. She was to never be left alone, no matter who was with her. Abigail would stay with one of her team members if she was not available. She would be bugged – although Abigail and the rest of Gibbs' team was unaware of _that_ – with both audio and GPS tracking, which would be monitored by her team. No one was getting to Abigail. She intended to ensure that.

Her team arrived shortly after the briefing and explanation were done, having come on a private jet that the company provided for each team in case of international situations such as this. Refusing to let Abigail out of her sight, Lia ordered two of the NCIS members to collect her team. Upon their return, she introduced the four members to the remnants of Abigail's team.

"Special Agent Orlando Vespucci," the team leader gestured to a tall, dark-haired male with symmetric features and a rather large nose. "Special Agent Melody Worthington," next came a pretty blonde with dull grey eyes and an absolutely tiny figure. "Special Agent August McTavish," was a tall, lanky officer with a crooked but bright grin and hair nearly as dark as Ricci's. "…and Special Agent Emmanuel Lopez."

The medium-heighted Hispanic grinned at Abigail, his milk-with-coffee cheeks turning a red tinge. "Hola, señorita Abigail."

Abigail stared for a long moment, then turned away and crossed her arms, glaring at Ricci. "You put a hot Spanish tail on me?" She simply nodded, not commenting, her mouth set in a grim frown. "Why?"

"I promised to keep a bit of my attention perpetually focused on you," Ricci reminded her calmly. "As I was not able to do so personally, I sent Emmanuel over here. I believe he moved in as your new neighbor?" The man nodded immediately. "He has kept an eye on you for the past few months. As the threat grew more serious, his eye on you remained prepared for action. He is the reason I am here, although I have no obligation to explain myself to you."

"Lia! Are you insane?"

"Not at all – simply worried for one of the very few friends who has accepted my business," Ricci finished, turning away and heading for the elevator. "Melody, come with me, Emmanuel, do not leave Abigail's side, Orlando and August: share your analyses with the NCIS team." The blonde woman strode after her team leader, gait business-like, face leaving no concern for any of the orders the others had received.

"We have learned not to speak against her," Orlando spoke up, his accent as distinctly Italian as Ricci's was not. "Her orders are meant for us individually, despite being delivered to us in a group. She expects us to do our jobs and do them well, without worrying about anything not related directly to them."

"Gibbs doesn't hold for mute obedience," Ziva murmured thoughtfully, lifting a curious eyebrow to her hairline once more.

Tony sighed, rolling his eyes at the woman's near-blatant disregard for the American language. He was aware it couldn't really be considered English, but that was what it was usually referred to. "It's blind obedience, Ziva. _Blind_ obedience, not mute."

The woman appeared thoroughly confused. "They are not blind. They simply do not speak against their leader. Therefore, it is not with blind obedience they follow her, but with mute. American slang is rather nonsensical." As if he needed to hear _that_ from her. Tony rolled his eyes, and she continued her berating of him.

"Do they always go at it like this?" Emmanuel grinned at Abigail as the others continued their bickering. Gibbs excused himself, although hardly anyone noticed.

"Usually," she grumbled, rolling her eyes at the two bickering agents.

His grin widened, eyes twinkling in a friendly manner. "Good. It'll be something interesting around here. I think the old maid's just overreacting again." He shrugged, leaning against McGee's desk. Both his and Abigail's attention was solely focused on the Hispanic man. "She always does wherever you're concerned. Even watches the Marine news from this place."

"Marine news?" Amusement was the only emotion in the near-disbelieving tone.

"Ella es loca," He said simply, shrugging. The scientist cracked a smile, despite the fact she was still annoyed with him for having followed her on Ricci's orders. "Exactly how does this team work, anyway? Ricci's the only one who actually got a look at your guys' files."

McGee frowned. "Exactly how did she get a hold of those? They're encrypted, with limited access to even our own agents."

There was that grin again, although this time it was a bit more crooked, his eyes flashing mischievously. "Ricci has connections. And a clearance higher than any of you will ever get. Having her own team in our company certainly has its perks. I mean, chances are she knows everything about you guys. And I do mean _everything_." The emphasis was only made stronger as his grin widened, and he winked at McGee.

"I didn't know Lia was that high up," Abigail muttered, biting her lip in consternation. "Where are she and what's-her-name headed off to anyway?"

"Lady Ricci and Lady Melody wish to secure hotel rooms nearby," August inserted quietly, his smooth voice flowing like silk across their eardrums. "Lady Melody holds the financials for the team."

"So she really was joking when she said she wasn't supporting you financially."

The man nodded, face as blank as his team leader's was. "She does not joke frequently, but we do not rely on her financials. We rely on the money we gain as a team, which Lady Melody controls most of the time." He paused a moment, watching the rest of the team, then added. "It was a team decision to send Emmanuel here. Lady Ricci was not completely in control, Lady Abigail." His light eyes pierced hers seriously. "From the Lady's stories, we care for you nearly as much as she does, simply because she does."

"Ricci doesn't care easily, Abby," Emmanuel murmured. "Ella es muy fría, emocionalmente. Usted le ha permitido ablandarse. Dudo que usted realice el impacto que usted ha tenido en ella, pero le agradecemos por todo esto el mismo."

"I don't speak Spanish, Emmanuel," she had to remind him. He shrugged, grinning, but didn't bother translating.

- III -

"Exactly how did y-whoa."

Emmanuel, August, Orlando, and McGee turned towards the elevator in response to Tony's exclamation. Emmanuel's and Orlando's jaws dropped to join Tony's on the floor. August merely smiled as his team leader led Ziva and Abby into the cubicle; the two US agents looked rather smug, but then, Ricci didn't appear unpleased either.

Tony stared at the Italian agent, drinking in her new appearance – Orlando knew enough about his boss to look away before he was severely injured. Her hair was in a ponytail, wild curls cascading down her back. There was a hint of make-up on her face, adding perfection where none was needed. Faded, low-rise jeans hung on her hips, a bit on the snug end. Her midriff top was tight over her chest and conformed to her curves in the way only the black satin could.

"Holy mother of –"

"—if you finish that, I will personally pull your tonsils out of your throat, Agent DiNozzo," Ricci informed him, glaring. Okay, so despite her appearance, she hadn't lost her edge. Fantastic. Abso-fucking-lutely fantastic.

Tony nodded, his lips still parted in amazement. How had the assassin from the day before become this… dessert? This woman? "You'll blend in fantastically," he allowed, voice hoarse. He wet his lips with his tongue as Ziva and Abby combusted in near-silent laughter.

Ricci just looked annoyed. "That was the idea, Agent DiNozzo."

"Told you so, Lia," Abby giggled.

The woman's annoyance strengthened as she glared briefly at the other male agents in the area. "Indeed you had. What you did not consider, however, was that this might have been one of the reasons why I did not wish to procure a new wardrobe, my dear."

The amusement died off Abby's face. "Sorry, Lia, but Tony's right." She shrugged.

"He is also an over-sexed American who is unable to keep his jaw sufficiently attached to the rest of his skull," Ricci commented, slapping Tony with a manila folder that seemed to appear out of nowhere.

"Hey! Just cuz the boss ain't here don't mean you can go around abusing his agents," The man complained, but he honestly hadn't minded that much. The glare placed on him didn't lessen. "Never mind. Sorry." Still, the woman's gaze did not soften.

Abby placed a gentle hand on the agent's shoulder. "Lia has a tendency to hold grudges." He rolled his eyes, but when she bent to whisper in his ear, he listened, "Besides, I really don't think she likes you, so be careful with making her mad." The scientist patted his shoulder before straightening and dragging the two women back to her lab.

Tony nodded weakly, then breathed, "Damn…"

August chuckled. "Lady Ricci cleans up, as they say, very well. Unfortunately, she does not stand for sexual or romantic advances of any kind."

"Has she ever even had a relationship?" Orlando wondered aloud, grinning at August. The other man glared at him briefly. "What? I don't think she has."

"For a very good reason," the other reminded him, and although Tony was dying to ask, the foreigners dropped the subject then and there. "And things very rarely change, especially with Lady Ricci."

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**Translations**

"Hola, señorita Abigail." – _Hello, Miss Abigail_

"Ella es loca," –_ She is crazy_

"Ella es muy fría, emocionalmente. Usted le ha permitido ablandarse. Dudo que usted realice el impacto que usted ha tenido en ella, pero le agradecemos por todo esto el mismo." – _She is very cold, emotionally. You have enabled her to soften. I doubt you realize the impact you've had on her, but we thank you for it all the same.

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